


Don't Feed the Tigers

by bastardmice (itsahardyparty)



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Angst, Animal Abuse, Blood and Injury, Coercion, Cults, Drug Addiction, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forced Relationship, Guns, Lions, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Instability, Secret Relationship, Sex for Favors, Tiger King AU, Tigers, and other assorted big cats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23576641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsahardyparty/pseuds/bastardmice
Summary: Six German immigrants with almost nothing to their names come to the United States in search of a new life. What they find instead is an opportunity to work at a privately-owned zoo in the Midwest. It doesn't pay very well and the hours are long, but the important thing is that they have a roof over their heads and food to eat. But there is more going on here than meets the eye. The man who runs the place is very strange, and some of their methods are...questionable.
Relationships: Paul Landers/Christoph Schneider, Richard Kruspe/Paul Landers/Peter Stormare, Richard Kruspe/Till Lindemann
Comments: 9
Kudos: 24





	1. The King of All the Cats

To say he was an odd man would have been the understatement of the century.

He seemed nice enough. There was kindness in his heart. There had to be. He'd taken in six young German men without very much to their name, given them a place to live and a weekly pay to work for him. He was European, too, but he never spoke anything but English. 

Under ice blue eyes he wore a full beard, and his dark hair, which had grown out to his jaw, was always gelled back. He dressed like someone out of a movie. Always glamorous, always shimmering with something or other, wearing fur or animal prints or bright, gaudy colors. There was a gun in his hip holster at all times--usually a pearl-handled revolver. But he had a medley of firearms. 

He also had a type, and that was plain to see. He liked attractive young men, and he put them up in neat little trailers and gave them a few meals a day. The perks were modest, of course, because most of the money they made went to the cats.

Yes, the cats! The other draw, besides the housing and pay, was that Mr. Peter Stormare ran his own private zoo, and it seemed that hardly anybody could resist the opportunity to work with tiger cubs. The cubs were always what drew people in. Grown adult tigers were utterly gigantic--on their back legs they could stand as tall as seven or eight feet--but the cubs were football-sized. They were round and fuzzy and so, so cute. You could hold them and they would yowl at you with their brand new vocal chords, and peer up at you with their little blue eyes, and you would have agreed to work there before ever saying "yes." Stormare could tell the moment the tides turned. That, and hardly anyone ever said no.

This time, he had found a six-pack of fit young German men. It seemed that they had arrived as a group, and that was how he interviewed them. A handful of them had had their reservations, but at the end of the day, he was making them a generous offer. It would have been foolish to refuse, and they all knew it. 

"So...you will give us a place to stay?" Flake asked carefully, eyebrows knit with a deep suspicion. 

"Well, not for nothing, of course. You understand that, right?"

Richard nodded. "We'll be working for you."

"You'll be working long hours. I want to be honest with you about what this job entails. It's very challenging. You'll be working most of the day."

"Why so much? There are six of us, surely we can split up responsibilities?" Ollie suggested, lifting one eyebrow.

Stormare _laughed_ , which startled all of them for a moment, but quickly composed himself and ran a hand through his hair. "Boys, do you know how many cats we have?"

The six of them glanced among one another. "No," Paul finally volunteered. "It's like 20, right?" How many tigers could one man possibly own, after all?

"We have more than 150 tigers, lions, leopards, and other exotic cats. Your work is not done until they are asleep."

All six boys stared, slack-jawed and incredulous, at this glittering, pink weirdo. 'Zookeeper' suddenly seemed like such a banal, conservative term. Here was a man wearing a fluorescent pink, leopard-print top and a bejeweled belt. He looked more like an eccentric artist-type than anyone who did animal work.

"What will we be doing?"

"There is something here for everyone. You can care for the animals, work the cash register, or help out with the animal shows. But there's always something to be done."

"I don't know," Flake admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is very overwhelming."

"I understand completely." Stormare patted his thighs, causing some odds and ends to jingle, and then slowly stood up. "Why don't you boys take a few minutes and talk it over? I'll be right back."

All six of them watched him leave with measured wariness, but when the door shut and footsteps wandered down the hall, Richard immediately turned to Till. "Are you alright? You've been awfully quiet."

"I don't know how to feel about him. This is a good opportunity. And it might be the only work we can get."

"But he's weird," Schneider pointed out, finishing Till's thought. He'd been quiet through most of the interview as well, mostly just watching the mannerisms of their potential new employer. And that was understood. The guy was just strange. 

"We ought to measure the pros and cons," Paul suggested. "And then we can talk it over and all agree."

"Alright. That sounds reasonable."

"Well, pro #1 is the housing. We're all living in a van."

"We could find someplace to live."

"And how long will that take?"

"Another pro is tigers," Till piped up. 

"That is a con," Schneider snapped, squinting a little. "They're dangerous!"

"But they're so beautiful," he pouted. 

"Alright, alright, animals aside. This might be the only job we will all be able to get," Paul pointed out, raising his eyebrows. 

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we will all be living together, but we will also all be working together. And that appeals to me."

The rest of the boys nodded slowly. Despite their arguing, they did all know how to cohabitate. And they knew how to reach a compromise. 

"And he said there was something for everyone," Richard added. "So if someone doesn't want to be around animals...they don't have to. We would all qualify, somehow or other."

"...I suppose that's true."

Footfalls approached the door again, and Peter Stormare poked his head into the room. "Hello, boys. Have we talked things over?"

All six glanced among themselves. He could tell immediately that they were still unsure, but instead of mourning this, he smiled again. "That's alright. I understand. I have something that may convince you."

Stormare stepped into the room completely, with a swaddled up baby blanket in his arms. The bundle was squirming, and for a moment Flake feared that he was going to, somehow, extort them with his own child. But, when the corner of the blanket was pulled back, Till gasped. A baby tiger, a few weeks old at the very most, was curled up in the odd man's arms, squinting sleepily at them with its new little eyes. It peered around at all of them, then opened its mouth and let out a mighty, squeaking yawn. "Would you like to hold him?"

"Yes," Till answered immediately, sitting up straight. His eyes twinkled as Stormare reached over, gingerly passing the cub off to Till. With tenderness that surprised Stormare, Till cuddled the tiger against his chest and stroked its little head with his thumb. "You are so cute," he whispered, grinning proudly when the cub yowled loudly at him. "Yes, I know. It's ridiculous."

Paul peered over at the little tiger, then grinned. Till's smiles were contagious, after all. "I want to pet it."

"No," Schneider snapped, turning around to gawk at the two of them. "Are you crazy? It has claws!"

"No, it's just like a kitten," Till cooed, scratching under the cubs chin and snickering when it softly nipped his finger. "Oh yes, Doom. It's ruthless. Come on, pet it."

Schneider opened his mouth to protest, but Paul grabbed his wrist and led it over to the cub's tummy. "See? Don't be a baby, it's so soft."

"Flake, you should pet it too," Till raised his eyebrows. "He reminds me of your cat at home."

"...he does?"

"Yes," Till nodded emphatically and lifted the cub up, handing him over to Flake. "In fact, I think you should hold him too."

"Oh, no, I don't know if I--" And then the bundle was in Flake's lap. He held it carefully, watching as it squirmed and rolled over on its stomach. The cub peered up at Flake, and began to purr as soon as Flake ran a hand down its back. "Oh...does that feel good?" 

Ollie reached over to pet the tiger's head, giggling when its ears twitched happily.

"Schneider, is that a smile I see?" Paul teased, nudging him playfully. "Do you like the kitty cat?"

Before he knew it, Richard was the only remaining holdout, and glanced around at all of his friends. "What?"

"Are you afraid to pet the cub, Scholle?"

"No," he insisted firmly, and fooled absolutely no one. "I just think it might be dirty."

"I think you're a very bad liar," Till chided. Flake happily handed the kitten back to Till, who moved in close to Richard and started to pass it over. "Hold your arms out."

"Till, no, I don't think this is--"

"Come on," he insisted, nudging him lightly with one elbow. "Here, I'll help." Till gingerly cradled the cub in one arm, then reached over to lift Richard's elbow with his free hand. "It's alright. You're more afraid of it than it is of you."

"I am not _afraid_ of it," Richard insisted, eyes widening with apprehension as Till passed the tiger to him. "I am just...very, very cautious--oh--" He gasped quietly as the cub opened its mouth wide, but instead of administering a ruthless bite like he'd feared, the cub simply yawned again. 

"Isn't it cute?" Paul prompted, which pulled a nervous half-smile out of Richard. "And soft, right?"

"...yes, I guess that's true." Richard lifted his hand slowly, hazarding a soft pet halfway down the tiger's back. It seemed satisfied with that, so he did it again. 

"Will we be working with cubs?" Ollie asked Stormare, peering over Richard's shoulder at the fuzzy little babe in his arms. "Just...out of curiosity."

"Oh, yes." Stormare nodded emphatically. "Cub care is one of the most important parts of our zoo. Cubs are still small enough that they can interact with the public with minimal danger, so they certainly need devoted caretakers. When they are especially young, they need to be groomed and bottle-fed. Is that something any of you would be comfortable with?"

A handful of them nodded, including Flake. How could anyone resist the allure of those sweet little eyes, those fluffy paws? Caring for baby tigers all day seemed to be a dream come true. 

"Would you like to see some of our bigger cats? The adults?"

Emboldened by the positive experience with their cub, the boys nodded. Even Richard seemed less skittish. Stormare smiled that knowing, peacock smile of his, and patted his thighs again as he stood up. "I can take the little one back. Come with me." 

After the cub was put away in some play-area with others like it, Stormare led all six boys outside. The change was instantaneous: the Oklahoma sun pounded down on them from its faraway domain, causing beads of sweat to spring up on every brow. Stormare seemed indifferent to the change, but the rest of them were uncomfortably warm. The opportunity for distraction was too imminent, though, and they quickly forgot their discomfort. The office spaces, like the gift shop and the other "working" buildings, were not separate from the animal enclosures, but nestled right among them. So when they stepped outside, they were almost immediately face-to-face with an intrigued looking black panther. 

"That's Bagheera," Stormare told them, grinning proudly at the captivated Germans. "He's beautiful, yes. But I'm going to show you the tigers."

Tigers were huge, and everyone knew that, in theory at least. But being so close to one really put it in perspective. They were _massive,_ 5- or 600 pound beasts adorned with teeth for ripping and claws for tearing, painted with ancient calligraphy, with sapphires for eyes and obsidian set into every stripe. None of the photos in all the editions of National Geographic could have possibly done them the justice they deserved--seeing them up close was something else entirely, an experience in itself.

Stormare had disappeared briefly while the boys watched the cats roam around their enclosures, unblinking with awe, and had come back with a metal tray stacked with slabs of meat, and metal tongs to match. Only the smell of raw meat in the midwestern sun had alerted them to anything that was amiss. Instantly, the smell caught the attention of all four big cats in the enclosure, and they crowded up along the fence so quickly that Richard and Flake actually jumped backwards. Calm as anything, Stormare stuck two fingers into the fence to stroke one of the tiger's noses, then grabbed a piece of meat with the tongs. 

"Are you sure you should taunt them like that?" Schneider asked, voice carrying with what sounded like fear. 

"They'll be fine," he responded simply, raising the slab high, high over his head and worming the tip through the fence's metal threads. The tiger stood up on its hind legs and braced it forepaws against the fence, standing up at its full height of over seven feet. And then it sank its teeth into that prime cut, tearing into it as it fell back to the ground and stalked to a corner to enjoy its lunch. 

Stormare turned to the six Germans, afraid and mystified by the power and grace of these massive predators, and knew immediately that he had them. Slack-jawed and eyes twinkling, they stared fixedly at the cats, fearsome though they were. And it was true. No man could resist the allure, the power, the complete and utter addiction of the soul that was caused by being around tigers. 

He allowed them to ogle for a moment longer. And then, smiling that same, self-satisfied smile, he clasped his hands behind his back and asked "So, shall I show you to your quarters?"

One by one, the Germans nodded their heads, and followed Peter Stormare to their new homes.


	2. Trailer Park Boys

Within the day, the boys were moved in. It didn't take long, because they didn't have much. The strain of poverty had been so great on them that when they realized they were each allowed their own bed, tears were very nearly shed. The lodgings were humble, the trailers were small, and the water didn't always work, but this was so much more than they usually had. They had a roof over their heads and a place to call their own. They had a place to shower. Hell, they had a stable source of food. For them, this was a dream come true. 

Concessions had to be made at every stage, Stormare had explained. The trailers they'd be living in were small, but that was so that the tigers had the room to roam around that they needed. Besides, the only time they'd even be there was at night, so for the purpose it was meant to serve, it was perfectly practical. The boys had assured him that they didn't need much, though. This was already so much more than they had just yesterday. They wound up three to a trailer, in two that were connected. Till, Flake, and Paul lived in one half, while Ollie, Schneider and Richard lived in the other. Two would share the full bed, and one would take the futon in the front room. Or, they could all rotate. The actual designations didn't matter much to them. 

As it had happened, Till had slumped in the futon and fallen asleep early that night, and Paul and Flake had crawled into bed together to rest. Ollie and Schneider had also shared their bed, unanimously banishing Richard to the foldout. At 7:30 the next morning, the windows rattled and Flake threw himself out of bed, tearing through the room in a hunt for cover. What were the odds--their first day there and there was an earthquake?!

Well, Oklahoma did not sit on any fault lines, so, as they would soon learn, it was not actually an earthquake. Arguably, it was scarier. It seemed that their alarm clock for the foreseeable future would be simultaneous roar of thirty or so lions--the sheer force of which was able to vibrate the ground and shake the windows in their frames. 

Certainly, there would be no going back to sleep after that. So, all the boys got themselves dressed and prepared for their first day on the job. A young man around their age, so probably around thirty, was waiting outside their trailers when they emerged. His name was Peter Tägtgren, and he looked perpetually exhausted. "You're the Germans then." 

"Yes, that's us," Flake answered, cocking his head. "Who are _you?"_

"Peter," he answered simply. "Head zookeeper. I'll show you around." 

"I thought Stormare was the head zookeeper." He lifted an eyebrow. 

"He's the owner. Zookeeper is my only job. Did you all sleep well?"

Schneider rubbed his eyes, emerging from the other side. "That's one hell of an alarm clock you have here." 

A smile flickered briefly across Peter's face. "Ah, you've had your run-in with the lions, then." 

"My god," Till murmured, appearing behind Flake and yawning softly. "Those kitties sure can meow." 

Peter actually did smile at that. "Yes, I suppose they can. Would you like to get started?"

"Will we have to be up this early _every day?"_ Richard asked, lighting a cigarette. He and Ollie stumbled out as Schneider descended the two little steps. 

"Yes. I have NyQuil if you need it. You will need every wink of sleep you can possibly get." 

Peter waved for them to follow him, and the six little toy soldiers marched along behind him. He brought them past all sorts of enclosures, from which the cats watched them curiously. New arrivals were always of interest to the felines. They liked to know who their handlers were. 

"All your training will be on the job," Peter explained to them. "We need hands, and the best way to learn is by doing."

"It isn't _risky_ to allow untrained people to handle the tigers?" Schneider lifted an eyebrow at him. 

"The tigers are very rarely aggressive."

"...but they are _sometimes."_

"Anything can happen, I suppose. They nip and scratch a little, but a serious injury? Very very rare."

That still seemed to indicate a number of serious injuries that was not zero, which filled Schneider with deep unease. "What about those of us that don't want to do animal work?" 

"Even if you never see one again, Stormare likes to know that you have the nerve to step into an enclosure with a tiger. Come with me."

Till seemed to be the most cavalier about the whole situation, and was happy to step in with one of his more skittish friends. As Peter unlocked the first gate, Till stepped in and Richard followed close behind him. All the bravery he'd developed the previous day seemed to have gone by the wayside. Peter skirted past them and pulled out the key to the second gate, but paused and turn to look at them. Till was grinning, and Richard looked as if he might actually vomit. "Ready, boys?" 

"Sure. Come on, Scholle." Till reached behind him to grab Richard's wrist, squeezing it affectionately. "It's going to be fine. They're just like very big cats."

"Even little cats scratch, Till."

"I'll be with you the whole time." The padlock clattered a little as Peter keyed it open, and the noise caught the attention of the two tigers in the enclosure. They were lying around, and had been dozing happily in the warm sunlight, but were now slightly roused. They had a little log shed in there, and one of them was lounging on top of it, black and white little ears flicking back and forth. It turned to glance easily at Peter, but seemed vaguely interested in the other two. 

"Good morning, girls," Peter drawled, lifting a hand to greet the tigers. 

"Wow," Till breathed, beaming at the big, beautiful felines. "They're lovely."

"Aren't they?" Peter nodded. Everyone was frightened at first, but he was glad that one of their new charges could finally appreciate tigers for what they were. Wild animals, of course, no doubt worthy of respect, but unless you pissed them off or became part of playtime, you really didn't have much to fear. 

Richard peered out from behind Till;s shoulder and squinted. The cats hadn't rushed them after all. They hadn't been caught in a flurry of claws and teeth, whipped up in an orange tornado. They just...lied there, mostly disinterested, and watched them. "...they're pretty up close," he conceded, glancing between the two of them. "But...intimidating."

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to," Peter offered, and Richard nearly tripped over himself trying to rush back behind the gate. Till lingered a little longer, waving at the tigers and making stupid little faces at them. "Alright, come on. We have to circle through all your friends in the same way." 

"Oh, okay." Till frowned a little and waved one last time before Peter ushered them back out of the enclosure. 

The next two pairs fared in much the same way. Schneider and Ollie generally did pretty well. They weren't quite as jumpy as Richard had been, but Schneider spent most of his limited time within the arena squinting suspiciously at the tigers, one of whom seemed to squint right back at him. Ollie, on the other hand, seemed measured in his emotions: completely and utterly calm, in a way that surprised Peter, but not making kissy faces at the animals like Till. Paul, though restless, was more intrigued than necessarily afraid, and Flake seemed cautiously fascinated. It was pretty clear to Peter which of these men would be suited for animal handling and which ones wouldn't. And the ones that had that job did have to go in there, to clean up after the animals, to feed them, to keep the grass at a reasonable length. If they weren't comfortable, they wouldn't be able to do their job.

Peter herded all the Germans into Stormare's office, where he looked them all up and down. "Well...we'll have to get you all some suitable clothes. And something nice to wear for the animal shows."

Flake frowned. "What's wrong with what we've got on?"

"You need jeans, work boots! At least a uniform shirt. I can't have you traipsing around my animals wearing corduroys and golf shirts, that would be ridiculous."

Ollie glanced at Stormare's outfit. _That_ would be ridiculous? 

"Come on. I know you don't have many options, but I have a box in the back. Follow me."

They would have to order more things in, of course, to keep six Germans suitably clothed, but this would have to suffice for the time being. And in no time at all, Stormare had all his new boys fitted and dressed in the uniform beige shirt of the Oklahoma Exotic Animal Zoo. "Ah. That's much better. Have we decided where we would be suited best?" 

Peter pulled out a little notepad. "Till, Flake, Oliver, and Paul are best suited to animal work," he reported. "They are the least skittish around the animals, though Christoph is more suspicious than afraid. All of them doing animal work would require more training." 

Flake glanced over at him. When had he learned all their names, let alone had time to write notes?

Stormare nodded pensively. That would be fine. What he'd said was true, after all: hands were needed everywhere. As long as a handful of them were capable of doing animal work, that was all he would need. "Alright, very well...you know I have a tilt for these things, yes?"

"Yes sir."

He rubbed his chin, first looking at Flake. "You said that you would be comfortable raising and caring for cubs, yes?"

Flake nodded. "I think I could handle that." 

"Excellent. I will show you the cubs myself when we're finished here." Stormare then glanced over at Till and Richard, looking them up and down. "You're a strapping young man, and you will also be caring for our cats. But do you think both of you could handle animal shows?" 

"I don't know," Richard objected, frowning a little. "I don't want to work with tigers--"

"You will be perfectly safe. It's mostly cubs anyway, and the ones that aren't Till can handle. And when you aren't doing shows, you can work the desk at the gift shop. I do think you would be good for the shows though."

"Why...me?" 

"I think you two have the look that we need." He cocked his head to one side and grinned. "People will eat you boys up. You'll almost be as big a draw as the tigers themselves." 

Till reddened a little. "I'm sure that's an exaggeration." 

"If there's two things I know, honey, they're cats and boys." Stormare winked at him, then turned to the remaining three Germans. "Schneider. Can you--"

"Yes."

"Good boy. We need many people manning the cats, you know? Overdramatic things--divas, really. In constant need of attention. Have any of you got cats?"

"I used to have one," Flake volunteered, nodding sagely. "And you're absolutely right."

Paul turned to Schneider inquisitively, frowning a little. "I thought you said you don't want to work with tigers."

He shrugged his shoulders. "It's a little out of my comfort zone. I'm sure I can learn to work with them, right?"

Stormare clapped his hands, a broad, pleased smile spreading across his face. "That's wonderful news, boys. I'm so glad to hear that. Working with exotic animals is out of most people's comfort zone, but I can promise you that it's very rewarding. I'm very happy to have all of you on board! Oh, we should celebrate." He practically beamed and turned to Peter. "Can you--"

Another vague smile flashed across his features. "Yes." He disappeared for a moment, then came back with a bottle of vodka and a stack of red plastic shot glasses. It was barely even noon, but that was irrelevant. They were celebrating! 

"Are you sure we can drink on the job?" Flake asked. "Isn't that unprofessional?"

"Oh, don't worry so much. We're celebrating your first day. Go on, have a drink. And then I will show you around, and Peter and I will acquaint you with your new responsibilities. Does that sound good?"

The six of them glanced among each other, all smiling brightly. It had been a little intimidating at first, but maybe this would be a really good thing for all of them. Everyone here seemed really nice, if not a little strange, and the work would be difficult but honest. And, at least they knew their efforts would always be needed. After all, he'd said it himself: the cats were an awful lot of work. 

"Cheers, then!" Paul lifted his shot glass, holding it into the center of their little circle. All the other men grinned and clicked their glasses against his in turn, and then on Peter's count, they all took their first shot as part of the Oklahoma Exotic Animal Zoo family. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll pick up soon. These are mostly exposition chapters, but the fun is coming!


End file.
